


The Kings and Queens of Promise

by thegreatstoryteller



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow knows nothing, Jonaerys, R plus L equals J, Reveal, but then he does know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatstoryteller/pseuds/thegreatstoryteller
Summary: Jon and Daenerys head North, where they will learn the truth of the Targaryens.





	The Kings and Queens of Promise

Winter was very cold. That sounds very stupid now that I’m thinking it over. But having spent the entirety of my life in warm tropical areas and deserts, The North was a startling change. It was a beautiful change, the rolling hills, the falling snow, the winter wildlife. They were all lovely, but the cold was becoming unbearable. 

My brief trip beyond the wall was just that, brief. And the majority of it I had been riding on a firebreathing dragon. I hadn’t had any time to really let the cold settle. But now it was and it truly was frigid. My body betrayed me as it shook and trembled.

Jon had draped his cloak over my shoulders, once he noticed my shivering. While it did provide some warming comfort, it looked rather comical on me. It was built for a tall and broad man, I looked like a child trying to play dress up with it on. 

I rode a horse beside Jon. His men behind him, and mine mingled among them. We had originally entertained the idea of bringing Drogon and Rhaegal. But Jon thought it would give his people more cause for war, especially the Lords.

The lords would be upset enough to hear about the armistice. We were coming straight from our gathering with Cersei into the North. She and here armies would be coming North as well in due time to help fight the Night King. Cersei was a difficult woman, but even she was forced to believe the threat was real when we dropped a White Walker at her feet.

Our latest raven from Bran, had the Night King changing direction and headed to castle black. Why I didn’t know. He had been much closer to invading Westeros at Eastwatch. But that unknown was even more frightening. It made me miss children. While I’m sure Jon and his soldiers would die to protect me. The last I saw of them was before we set the armistice with Cersei, and here I was going even farther from them into the North.

Drogon and Rhaegal had screeched miserable when we had left Dragonstone. I watched them flying above the island until our ship had made them just pinpricks in the distance. They missed their brother. As did I, now I have lost two children. I have to do everything to protect the two I have left.

They will fight in the battles to come. It would be suicide to think we could win this war without them. But for now they will stay far from the wall. When my armies march to the North, they will follow. Screeching across the countryside to get to there well missed mother. 

The few Dothraki who traveled with us, were struggling in the cold, but were doing their best to hide it. None of us were accustomed to cold. I don’t remember a time in my life I’ve ever felt this cold. Except for in the House of the Undying. When snow had fallen down on me in a great throne room. I looked beside me at the man who must have stood as the embodiment of that vision. Jon Snow. If his name wasn’t enough of a clue, the land he hailed from definitely was. 

“We’re almost there.” He told me. It was hard to believe that their was any type of civilization in this frozen tundra. We had spotted small towns along the road, and inns dotting the landscape. Jon had dissuaded us from staying at them, relying on our tents instead. It wasn’t fine luxury, but it felt like it with Jon pressed up against me every night. His warm breath on my neck, his arms wrapped around me. 

He wanted to announce our relationship to his people. Since his near death beyond the wall, he has been wanting to take things between us more serious. Which I am not opposed to. Jon is an easy man to become attracted to, and the more I’ve come to know him, the more I’ve found a dearest friend. The connection between us in undeniable. Not even with Drogo did I feel the closeness I feel toward Jon. It isn’t quite love, but it will grow to be that in time. 

We rode up a steep hill. Once we breached to the top, there it was. Winterfell. A mass of cut stone ringed the outside of the castle, protecting the people within. It was a rigid structure that had withstood the test of time. The snow of a thousand winters had come and gone, and there it still endured. 

I pulled my hood father up, and tucked back any wisps of my hair. The Lords and Ladys weren’t aware that Jon was bringing me to Winterfell. There was to be a feast tonight, and Jon was going to present me to them then, but until then anonymity was my best friend. My Dothraki warriors and my unsullied pulled away from the group with a few of Jon’s men. They rode off into the trees to wait. I trailed back, surrounded by the remaining soldiers, letting Jon take the lead. 

Once we breached the guard walls, the cheers began. People were racing to surround Jon, chanting “The King in the North”. His people were happy to see his return. Jon dismounted and walked toward the castle’s main entrance, but not before flashing a backward glance to me. His soldiers smuggled me into the castle, and up to his chambers. Where I would wait until he was finished briefing his Lords.

They brought mine and Jon’s things up, and prepared a hot bath for me. It was much welcomed after the long journey. The bath was long and cleansing, and I felt a homesickness for Pentos when I had to step away from it. Not long after I was finished dressing into a warm woolen gown that had appeared on the bed, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” I said. The door opened slowly, and a redheaded woman came through the doorway. “You must be Sansa.” I said, with a soft smile. Jon had described her perfectly. Regal, strong, dominating and yet still feminine. She dressed logically for the cold. Cloaked in black and gray wool. A chain ran from her waist to her breast where it hooked around a silver ring.

“A pleasure to meet you, your highness” She gave a bow of the head.

“Did Jon send for me?” I asked.

“Yes, if you’ll follow me.” We left his room and made our way through the halls of Winterfell.

“I care about Jon very much.” I told her. She stopped and turned to me.

“I hope you do.” She said. “He is a good man, and he is a trusting man.” She looked a bit annoyed by that fact. “He can be foolish at times, but I do trust my brother.”

“Thank you.” I said to her. Sansa smiled and continued to lead the way. 

“Just make sure you make a good impressions on the lords, they weren’t exactly happy about Jon going south to meet with you.” she said.

“I know, Jon told me.” I said. “And he still came, it shows how much he wants to save his people.” We walked silently through the castle. The halls were strangely empty. As we grew closer to the feast, the noise of it could be heard clearer and clearer. It reverberated off of the walls, making them hum with the merriment. 

We came to a large arched doorway that was behind the high table where Jon sat. I could see his back, he had shed his furred cloak and now stood to address his people. Sansa went to sit in the chair to his left, which left the one to his right empty.

“The North Remembers,” He said, his voice carrying out across the great hall, silencing everyone. “Winter is coming.” He continued. “These are our words, we have remembered, and winter has come.” He paused. “We have proudly stood our ground against our enemies, and we are coming out victories.” Cheers and war cries broke out across the room. Jon raised his hand and the room silenced once again.

“But we did not do this alone.” He told them. “When I decided to go south to meet with Daenerys Targaryen, you called me foolish and advised against it.” There was a stilling in the room as they tried to determine where he was leading the conversation. “But I was determined to make sure that we had allies, that we had a fighting chance in this war. I have met the Dragon Queen.” The majority of the people remained expressionless, obviously trying to hide their disapproval. “and she has agreed to help us fight the White Walkers.” 

There was a moment of silence, and then deafening cheers. People shouting that their was no way they could lose, that the Night King was as good as dead, and that the dragons would burn the White Walkers to dust. All of the uncertainty vanquished in a moment, replaced with a deafening promise of hope. Jon raised up both of his hands, plunging the room back to quiet. 

“She and I met with Cersei Lannister, and we three have agreed to an armistice for the time being.” A look of shock went across the room. “We have made Cersei aware of the Night King, and this armistice will be in place until he is defeated and the danger he presents has been vanquished.” The people were hesitant, and rightfully distrustful of the family responsible for their last king’s death. And even more still hesitant about the foreign dragon queen.

“Daenerys Targaryen is a mighty warrior, who will destroy her enemies.” He began. “I have seen her ride her dragons. I have seen what they can do, and they are incredible creatures. She is a formidable ally.” He spoke with such vigor, he left no room for debate.  “And that is why I have brought her here, today.” 

I watched people looking around confused, looking to each other, comprehending what he had just said. Jon turned around to where I was standing in the shadow of the archway. I stood tall and walked into the light of the room. Time stopped inside that hall. Every person had frozen in place, and no one seemed to know how to restart the clock.

I stood beside Jon. Two immovable mountains. Suddenly a young girl stood, she was short and couldn’t be more than thirteen. She had her long brown hair pulled back, and a long fur cloak over her shoulders, making her look more intimidating than she was. 

“Your Highness.” She gave a bow. “I am Lady Mormont, of House Mormont. I welcome you to the North.” I sucked in a breath of surprise. Jon hadn’t mentioned that any of Jorah’s family would be here. I smiled at her, and gave a bow of the head back.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Mormont.” I told her. “One of my advisors is actually a Mormont.” Her eyes widened in surprise.

“A Mormont?”

“Your cousin Ser Jorah.” I told her. “He has been a trusted friend to me for many years.”

“Has he traveled here with you, your highness?” She asked.

“No, he didn’t believe he would receive a warm welcome.” I told her. “He has spoken to me very highly about House Mormont, The House of Bears and Here we Stand.” She smiled, it was small but clear to see.

After Lady Mormont, two more lords came up to bid me greeting. Then I took my seat beside Jon. His sister Arya sat to my right, and their brother Bran to her right. He stared off into the distance the majority of the time, but every once in awhile would turn to look at Jon or I.

The people of the North were hesitant, but they trusted their king. Lady Mormont’s approval of me was also a boon in my favor as well. She was viewed highly among the other Lords and Ladys, in spite of her young age. I spoke with many people that night. But largely I spoke with Arya Stark.

She was…...abnormal. A pleasant kind of abnormal, but she was unlike the others in that room. She was reserved, but not in a shy way. She watched everyone, everything really, calculating them. She wore a sword on her hip, even at the table. Holding herself as though a fight could break out at any second. 

All of the Starks were abnormal, they lived in hard situations. Sansa’s story I knew from Jon. But Arya and Bran, all I heard of them was their childhoods. The two grown adults beside me were as much strangers as me as they must be to Jon.

“How big are your dragons?” Arya asked.

“As big as houses.” I told her, and a feral sort of smile grew on her face.

“You’re going to set fire to King’s Landing aren’t you?” She asked. Her voice was calm and level, but a disturbing look of excitement burned in her eyes.

“As much as I wish to kill Cersei and take my throne.” I said. “I have no interest in killing innocents, it’s why I haven’t already rode them down there.” The fire in her eyes dimmed, but she nodded in understanding. “I don’t want to be Queen of the ashes.”

“Yet you burn men alive.” Arya turned to Bran. It was the first time he’d spoken. He still stared out in front of him, unblinking. “You have burned men alive who do not submit to you.” At last he turned, and stared at me with black, lifeless eyes. 

“Men who are my enemies, and who have killed many themselves.” I said. He blinked, and nodded his head slightly. 

“Yes, yes.” His eyes were unnerving, the longer he stared at me the more my skin crawled. It was like being stared at by death. “I saw your work in Astapor and Meereen.” I sat up straighter. How could he have seen that? I looked back to Jon, who was watching us, as was the majority of the hall. Other conversations had died, and all eyes were on Bran and I.

“Astapor and Meeren were cities overrun by slavers as was Yunkai, every person in those cities was under their yoke of oppression. They were slaves, and I freed them.” I said. “And the only lives I took during that, were the lives of the slavers themselves.”

“Yes, your work was impressive. Especially when the slavers came back and tried to retake the city.” His black and bleak eyes were starting to lighten as he spoke, making him appear alive. Yet his voice held the same seriousness, like every conversation was a matter of life and death.

I smirked. “The slavers were naive, and didn’t comprehend the fact that wooden ships can’t win against fire breathing dragons.” Bran smirked back at me. “And the people who live surrounding the Bay of Dragon’s remain free today.” I said to not only him, but to the room eavesdropping on us. “But, you couldn’t have been there. How did you know about all of that?”

“Bran has visions.” Arya said.

“Visions.” I said raising an eyebrow. “So that’s how you knew that the White Walkers were going to Eastwatch and then Castle Black.” He didn’t respond.

“I see the past and the present, all that has happen and is currently happen.” He told me. “I saw your victory in Meereen, your defeat at the hands of Euron Greyjoy, your murdering of the Khals.” He smiled at the mention of the Khals. “I saw you burn the White Walkers across the wall, and the loss of Viserion. Your wedding to Khal Drogo, your brother’s murder, your son’s death, your-.” I sat up straighter, scowling at the crippled man. He could speak of my conquests all he liked but he had no business talking about Drogo or my children!

“And you, my lord” I said interrupting him. “Should know when to hold your tongue.” He blinked at me, and gave a dry chuckle.

“My apologies, your highness.” He bowed his head and then turned to face the front of the hall, resuming his blank staring. I turned to Jon, who looked as confused about the exchange as I did. I looked out at the people and they were switching between looking at me and Bran. A few speaking in hushed tones. Gradually the talking return and the odd exchange was left behind. 

As night fell into twilight, I retired with Jon. We walked the halls back to his room and fell into his bed kissing and undressing each other. He had an abundance of energy and vigor that night, that when we finished with our love making I was dead tired. Asleep before I could tell him goodnight.

 

\----

 

When morning came I awoke to Jon tracing circles on my back. Drogo use to do the same thing. I rolled over and kissed him.

“Good morning.” I said and he smiled brightly.

“It definitely is.” Jon sat up against the headboard and I leaned back against his chest. 

“What is the plan for today?” I asked him. 

“Training with my soldiers, and meeting with the Lords and Ladys.” He said. “They are going to have some words for me about bringing you here without informing anyone. Then there’s the armistice.”

“You’re their King, they will know you have their best interests at heart. I told him. He bent down and kissed the side of my head. “And anyhow you’re a King, you can do what you want.”

“That is a dangerous way of thinking.” He wasn’t wrong. That way of thinking turned my father into the mad king, and drove many before him into a similar madness. Kings and Queens had to keep themselves in check, for their sakes, and their people sakes. 

Cersei Lannister was a dangerous woman because she had no one that kept her in check. She needs to be vanquished, the people of Westeros are in an unstable situation every day she sits on my throne. I have Tyrion and Varys, who don’t fear telling me what I should do and what I shouldn’t. While it is annoying at times, they are right more often than not. And Jon has Davos and Sansa.

“Your soldiers are still camping out in the woods, I sent someone to go bring them to Winterfell this morning.” He told me. “I was thinking they could train with me and my soldiers.”

“I think they’d enjoy that,” I said. “and it would help our peoples start to get use to one another.” 

In the afternoon I found myself looking out over the courtyard, watching the soldiers. The unsullied were sparing with a few Mormont men. The Dothraki were occupying themselves by sharpening their Arakh, ready to behead someone at a moment's notice. Jon was sparing with Arya, she was quite a skilled warrior. I wonder where she had trained. Her small sword wasn’t as immediately dangerous as others, but she turned it into a deadly weapon.

The soldiers of Winterfell looked up to where I stood quite often. Word of my dragons burning the Walkers beyond the wall had spread. The loss of Viserion in an attempt to save their king assured an amount of trust in me. It was an impressive show of strength to them. And it showed I was truly willing to fight on their side. They all seemed more cheery knowing they had a woman with Dragons on their side. The armistice with Cersei helped as well.

Sansa came into the courtyard, flagging down Jon and Arya. The three siblings conversed away from the main group. I watched them curious. They broke apart, Arya and Sansa left the area and Jon came up to where I stood.

“Is something going on?” I asked.

“Maybe.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “Bran wants to speak with us all in the godswood.” I’d heard about godswoods, they held beautiful trees where the old gods were worshipped. Many of those in the North still worshipped them to this day. I’ve never been an overly religious person, but the old gods seem far more intriguing than the new gods being practiced across the South.

We walked to the godswood where weirwoods overtook the area.  Bran sat in his chair, arm outstretched and palm resting against the white wood of the tree. The face in the tree cried and seemed to scream at the same time. The red leaves burned bright against the white branches and snow that covered the ground.

As we got closer, we saw Bran’s eyes. A pure milky white color covered them, it was unnatural. All at once the color returned to his eyes, and he released his hold of the tree. He turned to Jon and I, his dark eyes focusing in on the two of us. 

“Hello Jon,” He said, his voice even and emotionless. “Hello Daenerys.”

“Bran, was that one of your vision?” Jon asked concerned. Bran nodded.

“I was watching the Lannister’s, they are planning on poisoning you at a feast once the Night King is defeated. I would stay away from any wine served.”

“Thank you for the advise.” I told him.

“Is that why you called us here?” Sansa asked.

“No,” Bran said. He looked between his three siblings, and then over to me. He beckoned Jon and I over. He grabbed hold of one of my hands, and one of Jon’s. “I am the three eyed raven, this allows me to see things others can’t.”

“Yes, you told us about it last night.” I said.

“Jon, when I became what I am now, I learned something you should know.” Bran told his elder brother. 

“What is it?” asked Jon.

“What do you know about our aunt Lyanna?” asked Bran. Jon’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Lyanna Stark was the woman by brother Rhaegar had started a war for. A war that had gotten him killed and ended our families reign. That was history, why would Bran be asking about it? About a woman none of us had ever met?

“Why do you ask?” Jon said.

“Father would speak of her on many occasions, of his lost little sister. But did he ever say what it was that killed her?” Arya, Sansa, and Jon looked to one another, realizing none of them actually knew what had killed her. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Arya asked.

“Everything.” Was Bran’s reply. “Father left out a lot of detail about Robert’s Rebellion. Most of it being about our aunt Lyanna.”

“Why would we want to know the details.” Sansa said almost angry. Sansa and Lyanna had both gone through many of the same things, it’s no wonder she’s upset.

“Because the details aren’t what you think. Rhaegar never raped our aunt Lyanna.” Bran told us. Sansa took a step back in surprise.

“But that’s what we’ve always been told.” Sansa said. “It’s what’s written in the history books.”

“You must remember,” Bran said. “History is always written by the victors.”

“Did father know?” Jon asked. 

“Yes” The silence was deafening. The three siblings found it hard to believe that their father had lied to him. I was surprised as well. All I had heard of Ned Stark was that he was a noble and honorable man. His honor had taken him to the grave.

“But why?” Arya asked in a small timid voice, that didn’t match the deadly woman.

“Father told us he swore aunt Lyanna a promise before she died. He hid the truth, because it was the only way to keep his promise to her.” Bran told us. 

“What kind of promise did he make?” Jon asked. Bran turned his head and looked off into the snow covered forest. The lull in the conversation made me aware of something. Why was I here? This was a conversation about Starks, about their long dead aunt. Why was I taking part in it?

“Rhaegar and Lyanna were in love.” Bran said, stilling looking out at the scenery. He turned back and gripped mine and Jon’s hands tight. “A Targaryen and a Stark.” Oh, that’s why I’m here. “He never kidnapped her, he met her during the tourney, and the two fell in love.”

“Why were we told otherwise?” questioned Sansa.

“They ran away together, to Dorne.” Bran said. “Where Rhaegar had his marriage to Elia Martell annulled, and he and Lyanna were married by High Septon Maynard.” What? I looked to Jon. So we weren’t the first Stark and Targaryen. Well, not quite a Stark and a Targaryen. My brother and his aunt had been in love. And Robert’s Rebellion had been started over false pretenses.

“Why didn't they tell anyone?” I demanded. Bran knew why, but he was withholding the information. My family had been killed and lost their throne because this marriage was kept a secret. “Thousands died because of this.”

“When Rhaegar went to fight at the trident, he left behind Lyanna at the Tower of Joy,” Bran said. “But she wasn’t the only thing he left behind.” Bran pulled on our hands and rested our palms against the heart tree. 

There was a flash, and then we stood at the base of a large stone tower. The cold of Winterfell was gone, replaced by a hot and muggy summer air. We could see the backside of a man as he ran up the steps running alongside the tower. A piercing scream broke through the air. 

“You will see the truth inside.” I turned around, and saw Jon and Bran standing behind me. Bran’s chair was gone, he stood dressed in a leather riding tunic and breeches. Jon walked to him and embraced him in a crushing hug.

“How?” he choked out.

“This is a vision of the past, I can appear however I wish here.” Bran told us. “We had better catch up, father is getting ahead of us.” He lead us up the steps. The screaming inside reached a tipping point, and then everything went silent. Not a sound other than our footsteps echoing off the stone.

Bran lead us into a room. Where a young man, who must have been Ned Stark, knelt beside a woman. She was covered in sweat and shaking. Her breath was ragged and she was very pale. Blood covered her entire lower half.

“Aunt Lyanna?” Jon asked Bran, who nodded in response. She was talking quietly to her brother, his hands gripping her tightly. She was saying she didn’t want to die, she looked terrified.

“ If Robert finds out, he’ll kill him, you know he will. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned.” She begged, tears falling from her face.

“What happened to her?” I asked. Just then a piercing cry broke the room. Not the screams of earlier, but a small pitiful whimpering cry. A woman stepped forward and handed a red-faced babe over to Ned. The child was tiny, newly born.

Ned looked down at the small wrinkled babe in his arms, and promised his sister. Her breathing grew slow, and her hand stilling in her brother’s grip fell limp. She took one last breath, and we knew she had left this world.

A brown haired man, adorned with the sigil of a crocodile eating its own tail came into the room. He lead a shell-shocked Ned from the room and out into the hallway. Ned clutched the baby to his chest. We followed close behind, and listened. 

“Lyanna’s right” We heard Ned saying. “If Robert finds out he’ll kill him, it won’t matter that Lyanna’s his mother. All Robert will see is that Rhaegar Targaryen is his father.”

“I can take the child.” The other man offered.

“No, no” Ned said, struggling to come up with a plan. “I promised Lyanna I would take care of him.” He looked down to the babe, who stayed silent through the chaos surrounding him. “I will take him. I’ll raise him as my son.” 

Jon. I looked over at him. He hadn’t fully realized what was happening, and why we were both here. The wheels were turning in his head, but they hadn’t come to the conclusion. I looked over to Bran for confirmation, and he nodded.

“Lyanna said his name was Jaehaerys, but I can’t call him that, it’d be to obvious.” Ned said. “I’ll call him Jon, in honor of Jon Arryn. It’s plausible.”

Jon took in a sharp breath and a step back. He stumbled backwards. I grabbed at his arm to try and steady him, but he shook me off. He looked at me, with a look of, horror. He looked between us, before running back down the stairs to the ground below.

“His father is my brother.” I whispered. “He’s my nephew.” Thinking it in my head, and saying it out loud were different. It hit be hard in the center of my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I went to the steps, and looked down to the ground. Where bodies were lying bloody and dead, and where Jon kneeled pounding his fists into the ground. 

I walked slowly down the steps, letting Jon have some time to process. By the time I came to stand beside him, he had stopped moving and just sat looking at the ground. Bran stayed up in the tower, discreetly giving us privacy.

I sat down in front of Jon and wrapped my arms around him. He tried to push me away, but I held my ground. Defeated he rested his head against my breast. We sat, and tried our best to comprehend this mass change in our lives.

It wasn’t bad for me. I’d spent years, believing I was the only living Targaryen. But now I’m not, I’m not alone. I have Jon. No wonder my children love him, they know he’s one of us. He is a dragon. He holds the same blood as me.

But his whole life has been a lie. He has lived as Jon Snow the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark. Brother to the true children of Winterfell, who were truly his cousins. He had been tormented his whole life as an illegitimate son. But he wasn’t. He was the true born son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen. He was a prince, a king. He had more claim to the throne than I did.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” I told him. He didn’t cry, a man like him couldn’t cry. But a shaking sob broke through his stone faced demeanor. 

“You’re my aunt.” His voice was broken and muffled. I stroked his hair and rubbed his back. In that moment I felt more like his aunt than his lover. “And I’ve-we’ve-” His voice broke off.

“I know.” I bent down and kissed his cheek. “But that’s not an uncommon thing for Targaryens, my mother and father were brother and sister.” He let out a broken laugh.

“My grandparents” Jon pulled away and looked me in the eye. His face was flushed, and his shoulders kept shaking. He grabbed my forearm, and pulled me into a crushing kiss. A cold wind blew at us, the warmth of before gone. 

Jon and I pulled apart, we stood back before the heart tree. Bran sat back in his wheeled chair, with Arya and Sansa watching us with wide eyes. I found both of my hands held tight by Jon’s. His shaking had abated, but he refused to look me in the eye.

For me it was common for family members to be involved with one another. I had spent years of my life thinking one day I would marry Viserys. A thought I am very glad never came to fruition. But here Jon stood before me, another Targaryen.

“Jon...” I started, but I didn’t know what to say.

“What happened?” I heard Sansa ask. Jon didn’t look up, if anything he stared harder at the ground. She was concerned for her brother, so was Arya. They both stood closer than before, worry etched into their faces.

“I’m- I’m a Targaryen.” It shattered Jon to actually say it. His knees buckled, and he went down onto the snow covered ground.

“What?” Arya asked, looking at her brother as though he’d lost his mind.

“Father lied to protect me.” He said, his voice finally losing the shaking tone it had developed. He looked to his sister-cousins. “My mother was Lyanna Stark, and Rhaegar Targaryen was my father.”

Sansa gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. Arya looked at him, disbelief written across her face. Jon looked between the two of them, and then let go of my hands. The words he wanted to say were trapped in his throat. Instead of trying to speak to us, he took off across the snow, barreling toward Winterfell.

I stood in the icy cold with my nephew’s cousin's. A blazing dragon, standing beneath a snowy heart tree.   
  


\-------

 

Jon vanished. We spent the rest of the day searching for him, while trying not to alert anyone that the King in the North was in fact missing.

Sansa and Arya were doing their best to keep calm and absorb the news. Sansa held her head high and tried to show that it didn’t affect her, she was succeeding for the most part. Arya was obviously distraught knowing Jon wasn’t her brother. Jon had told me about Arya, she was his favorite sibling. The two had a special bond that I never had a hope of having with Viserys.

As night covered the castle, we admitted defeat. Jon knew the castle too well. We weren’t going to find him unless he wanted us to. He would return on his own. Right now he just needed to be alone, and work through the revelations of the day.

I retired back to Jon’s room. Sansa offered to put me up in another room, but I refused. I needed to be near Jon. If not him, his room was as close as I could get. So I am came to find myself laying awake in his bed, in a dressing gown. Listening to the sounds of the night from the open window beside his bed.

My mind wandered away and I started to drift to sleep. But the creak of the door, startled me back awake. Jon stood frozen in the open doorway. Hair a mess, and snow covering every inch of his fur cloak. He must have been freezing.

“I-I thought you would have….” He trailed off, gesturing outside the room. I shook my head.

“This is where I belong.” I told him. He held a grim look on his face as he shut the door. He walked closer. Then he seemed to think better of it and sat down on a chair a considerable distance away. His head dropped down into his hands. He rubbed deep circles into his head, willing away a painful ache.

“You’re my aunt.” He said.

“So it seems.” I replied.

“Why are you not more bothered by this?” He asked, desperately searching for some kind of answer.

“Because, it makes sense.” I told him.

“How!” He cried, frustrated and aggravated. At least I knew his feelings weren’t directed at me. Who knows who Jon blamed in that moment for his predicament, his adoptive father, his real father, the old gods or the new. They all could have been to blame for his abruptly complicated life.

“There has been a connection between us since the moment we met.” I told him. He opened his mouth to rebuke me but I wasn’t allowing it. “I a person who doesn’t fit in with anyone. I am a dragon among- I don’t even know! People aren’t like me. I have always felt that. But with you, I find a kindred spirit.” His solemn face was silent, undenying.

“You have the blood of the dragons. When Drogo let you touch him-” I broke off, he didn’t even understand! “Dragons don’t do that. Ever. I have never seen them let their guards down for anyone but me.” It all made so much sense now. “They knew, Jon. Even when we didn’t.”

I stood and walked to him. I took the sides of his face in my hands, and made him look at me. “We were two strangers on opposite ends of the world, and yet here we stand. Together.” I have never been one to believe in fate, but how can I not believe in this. “We were meant to find each other, we were meant to be together.” I leaned down and placed a firm, chaste kiss to his pouty lips. He didn’t fight me, but he didn’t kiss back.

As I pulled away, I felt his hand on my backside. “Do you mean that?” He asked. Oh -for the love of-he is so thick headed! I bent down and kissed him again. Deep, claiming, loving. Jon Snow was mine, Jaehaerys Targaryen was mine.

He stood and lifted me, carrying me over to the bed. That night he made love to me in a way he never had before. It was love making in every sense of the word. Two dragons burning in the heat of each other's flames. When we were spent, laying curled around one another. Jon whispered the sweetest words my ears had ever heard.

“I love you too.” I had whispered back. 

We gathered the Lords and Ladies the next evening for a great feast. Jon smiled brightly as we announced our plans to marry. The sudden engagement was a bit startling to the people around us, but the North was amicable toward it. Any plan where Jon remained as King in the North, they were content with. Adding benefit of not having to go to war against dragons, made them easy going about the marriage. 

Together Jon and I would be the rulers of Westeros. He the King in the North, and I the Queen in the South. Jon would reveal to them his heritage when I went south to take King’s Landing. But for now we stood in Winterfell, soaking in the many well wishers and congratulations we received.

When I first met Jon Snow, he had been a King with barely a title. Now he would be my husband. I had never thought I would marry for love, but I suppose fate had different plans for us. And I couldn’t be anymore pleased for that.


End file.
